


Hail to the Queen

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Vaginal Fingering, possible ooc Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 13:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: The reader has a hot date with the queen mum of Hell.





	Hail to the Queen

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: I combined three prompts for this: anon: Hi, darling! Can you write a story where Rowena and her girlfriend have sex on Crowley’s throne and he catches them and freaks out on them? AND @devsfan55: Oh I would just love some flirty/smutty Rowena with a female reader. Cause Ruthie is gorgeous and she deserved better just like Crowley. AND anon: Not sure if you’re still doing the Crowley or Rowena prompts, but here’s another one: the reader is Crowley’s best friend, and he tries to set up dates between the reader and his mom because he ships them and wouldn’t mind having the reader as a step-parent.

You should have suspected by now that when it came to demons, there was always an ulterior motive. A lifetime of hunting should have been enough to teach you that. But this…this you never expected, not from him. 

“So when you said you wanted to talk, you really meant you wanted to set me up.” 

“Well when you put it like that, it sounds bad. Think of it this way, love- agree to this and everybody wins.” 

You scoffed, “How exactly do you figure that?” 

Crowley spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. Seated on his throne, he looked the very picture of a benevolent king. “Simple, darling: you get a free dinner and I get Mother out of my hair for a while. She’s been locked away in her chambers for hours on end and generally getting underfoot. She’s restless, and that always leads to trouble. So if you could get her out of the palace for an evening, I’d be eternally grateful.” 

“You, grateful?” you scoffed playfully, “do you even remember what that feels like?” 

“I’ll admit it isn’t a particularly welcome feeling, but nevertheless…” he trailed off, “I think you and Mother would get along swimmingly.” 

Arms crossed, you studied him, debating on how best to approach the situation. “So all I have to do is take your mom out for a few hours?” 

“Precisely, love,” he gave you his most charming smile. 

“Isn’t it a little weird setting your mom up on a date?” 

“Trust me, kitten- my family’s dynamics passed ‘weird’ ages ago.” 

“If you say so.” You shrugged. “Fine, I’ll do it; at least I get a free meal out of it.” 

“Way to look on the bright side, love. Who knows, perhaps you and Mother will find you have more in common than you realize. Now, off you go- you have a dinner reservation for six pm; one of my minions will drive you there. I’ll text you the rest of the details.” 

Rather than chastise him for his high handedness in presuming you’d say yes, you let it slide, giving him an exaggerated bow before leaving. Making your way through the twisting halls and corridors of Hell’s palace, you knew the way to her chambers by heart. What Crowley didn’t know- what you failed to mention- was that there was a reason Rowena had been holed up in her rooms for hours on end: you. 

Pausing outside her carved doors, you knocked four times, followed by two quick taps. Almost immediately, the doors swung open to reveal the redheaded vixen, wearing only a loose robe and a smile. Your hands went instinctively to her tiny waist, pushing her into the room so you could shut the door behind you. Secure in your privacy, you sought out her mouth eagerly, welcoming the plush feel of her lips against yours. Only the need for air drove you apart. 

“Well,” she said, a little out of breath, “I’m not sure where that came from but I approve.” 

You laughed, pecking her on the lips. “Get dressed. As much as I love your outfit, I’m taking you out.” 

“Are you now? What’s the occasion?” she asked, sidling away, languidly pulling at the sash of her robe. 

“Your son. Crowley thinks you’ve been spending too much time plotting in here and wants you out of the palace.” Seating yourself on her bed, you were about to continue when she dropped her dressing gown. The sight of so much creamy skin on display immediately derailed your train of thought, your palms itching to trace her every curve. 

“What was that, dear?” Her lilting voice was heavy with humor. She prompted, “Fergus thinks I’m plotting, does he?” 

You cleared your throat, forcing your libido aside to focus on the conversation, an almost impossible task with those perky breasts distracting you. “Yeah, he, uh- he’s convinced you’re in here scheming how best to overthrow him. He wants me to distract you for a while, show you a good time.” 

“Well, you’re certainly adept at that,” she teased, running her fingers across her chest. “I don’t suppose you explained to him that the reason I’m in here so often is because of your insatiable lust.” 

“I may have neglected to mention it,” you admitted. 

“It’s for the best- the time will come to inform my son of our…involvement…with one another, but I’m having far too much fun sneaking about.” She ducked behind her folding screen to dress. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Ro,” you assured her, “I knew about your flair for the dramatic before we got ‘involved’. If you wanna wait to tell Crowley, we’ll wait.” 

She stepped out from behind the screen wearing an elegant blue gown that swept down to the floor, crystals beaded along the neckline. The breath caught in your throat at the sight of her, the silky fabric hugging the trim lines of her body. How you managed to capture the attention and affections of such a graceful woman you’d never know. She was everything you weren’t: refined, cultured, and poised. 

“Do you mind zipping me up, dear?” she asked innocently, pulling her curls aside and turning her back to you. 

Rising to your feet, you trailed your hands down the smooth expanse of her back, grazing the warm skin beneath the dress. You grinned when she shivered at your touch and took your time zipping up the tiny zipper, pressing a barely there kiss to the nape of her neck. There was no denying you affected her just as much as she affected you. Rowena threw you a grateful smile over her shoulder, bustling off to her vanity to fix her hair. 

Your phone pinged; glancing at it, you saw Crowley had texted you the name of the restaurant as promised. Looking it up online, you weren’t at all surprised to discover he’d booked the most expensive place around- a place Rowena would adore, but you would never be able to afford under normal circumstances. You doubted they would even let you in the door dressed as you were now, your worn flannel stained with blood and your jeans covered in more patches than actual denim. Not even your FBI outfit would be enough. 

“Dammit Crowley,” you muttered; it wasn’t like you had an abundance of formal wear in your wardrobe. 

“I know I’ve plenty of cause to curse my son, but why do you, dear?” Rowena asked from her seat.

“I just looked up the restaurant Crowley made the reservation at; it has a dress code, Ro,” you grumbled. “I’ve never been anywhere that has a dress code. There’s no way any of my clothes are gonna be good enough for this place.” 

She brushed aside your griping with a wave of her hand. “Is that all? Calm down, my strong warrior. Do you really think I haven’t planned for just such an occasion?” Striding over to her closet, she disappeared briefly, re-emerging with a black garment bag. Laying the bag on her bed, she unzipped it to reveal a gorgeous burgundy gown. “For you, dear.” 

Pulling the dress out of the bag, you were stunned. While not as ornately beaded as her own, it was a sumptuous gown nonetheless. Crystals dotted the sheer red overly covering the bodice, sparkling in the glowing light. The flowing skirt pooled over your hands, light as air and silky to the touch. It was more extravagant than anything you’d ever owned before. “Rowena…” 

“I saw it and knew you’d look stunning, dear.” 

“How did you even know my size?” 

She leveled a flat look in your direction. “Seriously? My darling, how many times have I seen you au naturale?” 

You had to admit she had a point. Stripping out of your clothes and slipping into the gown, Rowena assisted you in zipping it closed. You kept your hair and makeup simple, and were ready to go in no time. The skirt swirled around your feet with every step, just long enough to cover up your boots- you refused to wear the dainty heels that went with the dress, fearful of rolling an ankle. 

Finally ready, you tucked Rowena’s hand in the crook of your elbow. “Shall we, my queen?” 

“Lead the way, my brave lass.” 

***Later that night***

Stumbling into the great hall, giggling and clutching at one another, you waved off the minion who had driven you to and from the restaurant, anxious to be alone with your enchanting lover. Drunk off of good food, potent booze, and Rowena, you couldn’t wait to tear that gown off of her lithe form and lick every inch of delectable skin. From the way her hands wandered freely across your body, she was just as eager. 

Spinning her around in your arms, you pulled her in for a heated kiss, lapping at the seam of her lips. Parting for you, Rowena let out a little groan as you caressed her tongue with yours, her arms wrapping around your neck. Feeling her softness pressed against you drove you crazy with want; her rooms never seemed farther away. When the need to breathe got too great to ignore, you broke apart, tugging her impatiently toward her bedroom. 

Tiptoeing past the throne room, you noticed for the first time just how empty it was. Crowley must have been off seeing to his own business and none of his minions were scurrying about. The knowledge that you had the palace to yourselves left you feeling reckless; apparently, you weren’t the only one. A wicked grin crossed Rowena’s face, her gaze landing on the empty throne. You knew that look: she was up to mischief. She started pulling you along, headed straight for the throne. 

“Ro…” you began, unsure of what she had in mind. 

“Not another soul in sight,” she spoke over you, “when will we have another chance at this.” 

“At what?” 

Rowena whirled around, pushing you onto the throne. It dawned on you just what she was planning when she hiked her dress up around her knees to straddle your leg. “This.” 

The rational part of your mind distantly shouted that this was a bad idea: what if Crowley returned unexpectedly, what if some opportunistic peon caught you? There were a thousand and one reasons why you shouldn’t do this. But with the naked heat of her center pressed tight against your clothed thigh, her breasts squashed against your own, it was hard to put up much a resistance. 

“This is such a bad idea,” you murmured, pulling her in for a kiss nonetheless. 

“Hush, it’s a grand idea,” she countered, nipping at your bottom lip. 

You ran your hands up and down her thighs, reveling in the silky smooth skin. Her curly red locks surrounded your face, shielding you from the outside word as the two of you kissed. There was something deliciously scandalous about making out on Crowley’s throne, your core growing slicker by the second as you swallowed down her purring moans. Sliding your hands back to cup the curve of her ass, you massaged the soft globes. 

Rowena started rocking her hips against your thigh, a languid rhythm completely at odds with the fevered way she kissed you. The wet slick between her legs seeped through the fabric of your dress, hot and sticky, leaving a growing patch of her arousal with every glide of her hips. Pushing her skirt higher still until her entire lower half was exposed, you egged her on, whispering words of encouragement as she shamelessly sought out her pleasure. 

Her head fell back with a sigh, those long red curls spilling down her back. Lust pulsed through you as you watched her, whimpers falling from her plush red lips. She was…she was glorious as she rode your thigh, her face flushed and eyes fluttering shut. You kissed your way down her neck, licking and nibbling at the vulnerable skin. Rowena held nothing back; always a vocal lover, moans and hissed expletives in Gaelic filled the throne room as she drew closer to release. 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, you rubbed at her slit, toying with her damp outer folds. She whined, pushing harder against your hand, sweetly gasping out your name. As wet as you were, as desperately as you ached, your own pleasure was the last thing on your mind as you dipped two fingers inside her channel, those velvet walls parting easily for you. Rowena groaned, her head dropping to your shoulder, her breath hot on your skin. 

“Shhh, Ro, keep it down before we get caught,” you chided teasingly, laughing at her frustrated growl. 

“And how do you expect me to keep quiet when you’re-“ She cut off with a strangled gasp as you twisted your fingers inside her, seeking out and finding that spot that always made her cry out for you. “Och, that’s playing dirty.” 

“As if you’d want it any other way.” 

Sliding a third finger in, you fucked her steadily with your hand, ignoring your cramping wrist; all that mattered was seeing her come apart. The scent of her, the press of her soft body, the wet heat of her walls gripping you tight drove you wild with need and you went faster still, almost as desperate as she was for her to come. 

Threading your free hand in her hair, you took her mouth in a harsh kiss, thrusting your tongue past the seam of her lips, exploring every nook and cranny. She yielded readily to you, whining as she bounced up and down on your hand. You felt her walls start to flutter around your fingers- she was close. Determined to push her over the edge, you rubbed firm circles around her clit with your thumb, eyes wide so as not to miss a single moment. 

Rowena went stiff in your arms, her sweet pussy clamping down hard around you as she went tumbling head first into orgasm. You kept her firmly in place as she wailed out her release, swallowing every pleasured gasp and groan. Your own pussy throbbed in need as you watched, enraptured by the sight of this stunning woman falling apart around you. No matter how many times you witnessed it, it would never be enough. 

Breaking away from her lips, you whispered, “So beautiful- always so beautiful Rowena. Come on sweetheart, let me hear you.” 

She obliged, your name slipping out on a moan as she worked her way through her climax. The frenzied rocking of her hips gradually stuttered to a stop. You helped guide her down from her high, your hand going still, buried deep inside her. She went limp in your arms, the clench and release, clench and release of her spasming pussy ceasing. You could feel her trembling from the force of her orgasm, her breasts heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. 

Easing your fingers free of her channel, you tweaked her clit one last time, earning a hiss and a half-hearted swat on the arm. Your fingers glistened with her slick in the dim light, too great a temptation to resist. Greedily sucking them into your mouth, you moaned at her flavor, lapping up every last drop of her arousal, sending a fresh surge of desire to your neglected pussy. Shifting in place, you tried to discreetly bring pressure to your clit. 

Lifting her head from your shoulder, her lilting voice husky, Rowena said, “No need for that, dear. Let me take care of you the way you always take care of me.” 

Before either of you could move, an appalled voice cried out, “Mother!” 

As one, you both looked over to see Crowley standing in the doorway with a handful of minions, a horrified look of disgust on his face. Under different circumstances, the nauseated expression of outrage would have been hilarious, but it was all you could do to keep from hiding behind Rowena’s curtain of curls. The last thing you ever wanted was for one of your closest friends to find you fucking his mother on his throne. 

Rowena- true to form- had no such qualms. “Fergus. Oh well, I suppose the cat’s out of the bag. Yes, we’ve been seeing each other and yes, it’s exactly what it looks like. Now, if you don’t mind, we would like a bit of privacy please- off you trot.” 

“Oh god.” Crowley looked revolted at the very idea. He spun on his heels, shoving aside his demons as he strode away. You were going to have to have a talk with him at some point, worried for your friendship. 

“Enough frowning, dear,” Rowena interrupted your thoughts, “he’ll be fine- we just caught him off guard, is all. Don’t fret.” 

“You really think so?” 

“I do; Fergus is fond of you, even more than he lets on,” she reassured you, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Thank you, Ro,” you said softly. 

She smiled, wiggling in your lap. “Now, since my son is probably going to end up burning this throne anyway, why don’t we pick up where we left off. I still need to take care of you after all.” 

“You always do,” you replied, tucking a curl behind her ear. 

“You big sap,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection. 

“You love it.” 

She hummed in agreement, sliding off of your lap to kneel between your knees, inching your dress up your thighs. “Why don’t I show you how much?” 

At the first swipe of her tongue, your head fell back with a moan, giving praise to your queen.


End file.
